Initiation
by Outlander
Summary: The story about a young woman, and the events which lead up to her joining the Brotherhood of Steel


The ground was still steaming in many places from the sudden and heavy downpour that occurred less than a half hour before. Already the cloud cover was breaking up rapidly, allowing the relentless sun to quickly bake away the moisture that nature had so generously provided.   
In the aftermath of the downpour, life struggled in a constant life or death battle, one waged between the hunter and the hunted, predator and prey.   
Nissan slid through the tiny canyon with stealth only those who've lived their lives in the wastelands possessed. A scant hand-full of feet upwind of her location was the creature she had been tracking for the past fifteen minutes.   
The small lizard, a mutated gecko, no more than two feet in length, was snuffling along the ground. Its forked tongue flicked from its mouth, tasting the air. The creature stopped and stared at a spot on the mud for a heartbeat, and then it pounced. It came up, holding a cockroach in its maw. The insect disappeared into the gullet of the Gecko seconds later.   
The recent rains had brought a bounty of grubs and other small insects to the surface, creating a virtual feast for the varied inhabitants of the wastes. Creatures like the golden gecko came out in droves to take advantage of the food available, knowing that in a matter of a few hours the food would disappear beneath the ground as soon as the thirsty land drank up the precious liquid. Overhead, the cloud-cover had already dispersed. Within an hour there would be no sign of the recent rains.   
Pushing herself up into a crouch, Nissan hefted the long spear she had been carrying. Mud caked her lithe form from the tips of her toes to her short-cropped brown hair, and was already starting to dry under the relentless heat of the sun that was breaking through the cloud cover. As soon as the rains started, Nissan had shed the tanned leather halter-top and loincloth. Growing up with the tribe, she had long ago learned that there was no such thing as modesty. Finding a deep puddle, she slid into the muck and covered herself from head to toe in it. On a hunt like this, she needed every advantage that she could get. The thick layer of mud, and without having the tanned hides would mask her natural scent; there was nothing for her prey to detect.   
So far, it had worked like a charm. She had already killed a dozen of the lizards, each one varying in size from a foot to the largest that stood at 3 feet in height. The tribal elders would be quite pleased with her performance this night.   
No breeze stirred the air around her as she swung her arm back, taking careful aim at the small lizard. With all her might, she threw the spear and it sailed straight and true. The metal tip of the weapon bored straight through the small lizards neck, killing it instantly. It dropped soundlessly to the ground and twitched several times before death finally stilled its nerves.   
Nissan stood up and sauntered over to the kill. She knelt and picked up her weapon, and grabbed the tail of the Gecko. With a light tug, she pulled it off the spear and turned around towards the small outcropping of rocks where her previous kills were waiting for her.   
She rounded the bend and stopped dead in her tracks. The pile of lizards was gone. It was clear that another of the wastes predators had found her supply of food. She cursed the gods silently, tossing the dead Gecko to the ground in frustration; She shouldn't have gotten greedy and gone after the last lizard. If she had returned to the ville, at least she would have something to show for her efforts. But now, not only was her food gone, but also if the predator was still about, she might be in serious danger.   
Deathclaws had been spotted recently, travelling through the region. They were not un-heard of, but they were exceedingly rare, and encounters with the strange mutants always resulted in death. She whispered a silent prayer to the auto-gods that one hadn't entered the area.   
Standing perfectly still, Nissan stared at the ground, her bright blue eyes searching for any tracks or spoor, something that might give her a clue as to what had taken the kills. Something else was amiss, but she couldn't put her finger on it.   
Nissan shifted her position so that she could get a better view of the lip of the canyon. Her movements caused some of the dried mud on her body to break off and drift to the floor. Her senses alert, she stood there silently for several long minutes, scanning the canyon and listening for anything out of the ordinary.   
Then, without warning, something hot and wet touched the cheek of her bare rear where the mud had fallen off. She screamed and jumped, landing neatly before the rock pile where she had placed her kills. At once, two things happened. She spotted her kills, all of them neatly stacked on the ground behind the rock pile, and a figure, caked as she was in the mud, crouched where she had been standing, his tongue sticking out where he had just licked her, a spear laying beside him.   
"Stratus, you asshole!" She growled indignantly.   
Unable to contain his laughter, the crouching man collapsed onto his rump and howled at the look on Nissan's face. "I thought you were better than that," he laughed.  
Nissan placed her hands on her hips and glowered at the young man, now sitting in the dirt. "You got lucky," she bit off, still angry. Not really that angry at the man, but at herself. Stratus was right. Nissan realized she had been concentrating too hard. She should have spread her sense out more evenly. By doing what he did, he proved to her just how vulnerable she made herself.   
Like Nissan, Stratus was also naked, covered in rapidly drying mud. He tall and muscular, a good eight inches taller than Nissan's five foot eight. Both were considered to be quite statuesque for members of their particular tribe, which rarely got above five and a half feet in height. "You did really well," he commented, pointing to the pile of dead Gecko's.   
"Don't try and change the subject," she frowned. "How many did you kill before you decided to fool around?"  
It was Stratus's turn to frown. "I only got seven. You beat me yet again."  
She hid her smile by turning to go and collect her kills. "Don't worry about it. If you could sneak up on me that easily, you're getting better. Between us, we have twenty kills. That should make the elders happy." She crouched before her kills and started to string them onto her spear, making it easier to carry the carcasses. They were long, but the Gecko's were quite light in weight. Her task complete, she gathered up her loincloth and halter-top, but didn't bother to put them on.   
Stratus handed her his weapon and then took her spear and leaned it across his broad shoulders. Blood dripped lethargically from the cargo of freshly killed meat, mixing in with the mud still clinging to his body. "I left mine near the stream," he answered Nissan's unspoken question.   
She nodded and took his free arm in hers and together they made their way out of the small canyon. In less than five minutes they had crossed over to a small stream. It was the lifeblood of her tiny village, providing water for the few plants they were able to grow and the dozen Brahmin they tended. Normally the stream was crystal clear, a few feet in depth at its deepest point. But now, after the rainstorm, the stream was muddy and cloudy, overflowing its narrow banks.   
A large metal barrel was situated next to the stream. No one knew where it came from, as it had always been in there. Stratus placed his load on the ground and lifted the boards covering the top of the barrel. A swarm of bloat flies hovered above the contents until he swished them way with the wave of his hand. One by one he pulled out the carcasses of the Gecko's that he killed and added them to the load on the spear.   
While he worked, Nissan waded into the now fast flowing stream and sat down. She let the water remove what was left of the mud coating her body. It wasn't as effective as it could have been, considering just how muddy the water already was, but it was a temporary measure until they got back to the village.   
"How's the water?" Stratus asked, watching her as she bathed.   
She shrugged her shoulders and then ducked under for almost a minute. When she surfaced, the mud was gone from her short hair. "Warm."  
He picked up her makeshift clothing and walked into the stream, handing the tanned hides to her before plunging into the water as well.   
Nissan pulled her halter-top over her head so that they covered her small breasts, and then secured the loincloth around her slim hips. Already the heat of the day dried the water on her body, leaving a thin film of dust covering her. She stood silently, watching as Stratus cleaned the worst of the mud off his own body.  
When he was done, Stratus quickly dressed himself and then they stretched out the two spears between them, making it all that much easier to carry the load back to their village. They were not the only tribal members out hunting that day, and hopefully the other parties would have as much success as they had.   
Together, they walked across the now totally dry earth. All around them sparse vegetation fought against the lack of rain and harsh conditions to survive, already looking greener from the brief but heavy downpour. They walked along side the black stone ribbon that stretched as far as the eyes could see, the monotony of the stone broken occasionally by the rusting metal hulk of one of the ancient gods, cracks in the surface, or the bones of those who were unfortunate enough to have met their demise at the hands of the raiders or mutants that prowled the wastes.   
It wasn't long before the familiar lines of their village began to take shape in the shimmering heat waves rising from the land. Dull rust, browns and blacks made the walls of the village, comprised of the old gods and other bits of metal their ancestors had scavenged from the wastes, all the way back to the founding of Ford workers group. The walls stretched almost five hundred feet in each direction. Old water carriers had been laboriously turned on their ends and now served as makeshift towers.   
A number of warriors walked along the top of the walls, lightly stepping over the small crevasses between the bodies of the old gods that now protected their small village, ever watchful for the numerous dangers that roamed the wastes. A pair of ancient metal gates lay open directly before them, a pair of guards standing on either side.   
The guards, armed with spears and knives, greeted the two hunters warmly as they passed the metal gates and entered the village. "I see the gods were smiling down upon you and your mate, Stratus." One of the guards called out to the pair.   
"Nissan got most of them, Effonefifty," Stratus called back, hefting the spears to show them. "She's always been a better hunter than I am."  
Nissan glowed with pride, her brief anger all but forgotten upon hearing Stratus's words. She tilted her head and smiled at the two guards.  
Together, they crossed the open yard. The interior of the village was filled with a number of makeshift structures, built from old building materials salvaged from the ruins scattered across the lands, others were tents built of sturdy materials and hides, meticulously tanned and sewn together for added strength. Nearly every structure had several large plastic or metal barrels standing next to them, used to store water when the stream dropped in level.   
Not a single structure was without a small garden. Many of the gardens held a variety of vegetables, but some held only one type, like tomatoes or corn, carrots or lettuce. Diversification was the key to survival, and when one family had an abundance of one type of food, they could trade it, or give it to another in times of need.   
It was the way of the tribe, always had been, and always would be.   
The stream cut its way through the centre of the village, running swift and sure, but already starting to drop in level now that the rain had passed. Numerous children played in and alongside the water, while several of the village elders watched on. Like food and water, children were the third most precious commodities the village possessed. They were the future, and the tribal people would do anything to protect them.   
They passed a group of old metal frames where several men and women were busy stretching and preparing the hides of two Brahmin which had recently been slaughtered, in preparation for the great feast that was to take place in two nights time.   
Eventually they made their way to the smokehouse. The body of an old god had been reverently converted to dry and season the meat that was harvested from the wastes many years ago. A number of the villages older women were already hard at work skinning and cutting away the meat and useful organic matter from a pile of Gecko's and Iguana's that the other hunters had managed to bring in.   
One of the women stood up and beamed at Nissan and Stratus as they approached. "Welcome home!"  
"It's good to be back. The day's been long and I'm about ready to pass out," Stratus complained good naturedly as he dropped the spears to the ground and began to pull the carcasses off, adding them to the already impressive pile.   
Nissan embraced the old woman and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, mom."  
"How many did you bring back this time?" Asked the old woman, looking at the pile.   
"An even twenty," Nissan answered. "I killed thirteen, Stratus seven."  
The old woman made a tsk tsk sound and she shook her head. "I thought you were supposed to be the provider," she admonished Stratus.   
"Can I help it if your daughter is a better hunter than I am, Ultima?" Stratus said, turning slightly red in the face.  
"Mother!" Nissan warned. "He is a good provider! We have never gone without, have we?"  
Ultima laughed quietly. "Aye, he has been a good provider in many ways, except for one."  
Nissan rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming next.   
Her mother didn't disappoint her. "Were is my grandchild?"  
If possible, Stratus turned even redder. "It sure isn't for lack of trying," he blurted out.   
The older woman just stared at him for several beats of the heart, and then all of a sudden she started to laugh. "That's the best part of children, making them!"  
Throwing his hands up, Stratus backed away from the small gathering. "I'll be back at our tent," he told Nissan before beating a hasty retreat.   
"That wasn't very nice," Nissan said, but she was unable to keep the grin off her face.   
Still smiling, Ultima winked at her daughter. "Your dad and I were the same when we were your age, and even now he gets the urge to see if we can make another baby."  
That was the last thing that Nissan wanted to think about. Following Stratus's lead, she turned and briskly walked away from the older women, the teasing laughter of her mother quickly fading away.   
She reached the small tent that both her and Stratus had been sharing for nearly a full season. Grabbing the flap, she stepped inside, getting out of the blazing heat. It was only marginally cooler inside the shelter. Stratus was there, washing the thin layer of dust from his muscular body. She admired the swirling tattoos that covered his arms and upper chest, the marks of the old gods. It was considered a great honour to be adorned with the symbols of the gods, one that brought luck and prosperity to the family of those so blessed.   
Nissan walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his belly, feeling the rock hard muscles under the deeply tanned flesh. "She was only teasing," she said into his ear.   
"I know," Stratus replied back, patting her arms. "Someday, Ford, GM and Chrysler willing, we'll have a son or daughter of our own."  
Kissing the back of his neck, Nissan pulled away and sat on the edge of their cot. She opened an old, slightly rusty metal locker at the foot of the bed and rifled through the contents. Eventually she withdrew a number of faded and tattered magazines.   
Stratus, clean at last, didn't bother dressing as he sat down on the cot and looked at the faded magazines. "Don't you ever get tired of looking at those?" He asked, peering at the ancient colour photos covering nearly each and every page.   
Nissan shook her head. "No. I've always wondered how the ancients were able to make such real paintings." She held up one of the pages and stared at the statuesque brunette who was wearing a flowing black gown, her long hair braided, her skin positively glowing with health. She ran her fingers across the dress, a look of longing on her delicate features.   
Stratus didn't say anything. He knew that she wanted to have nice clothing like that, be able to grow her hair and wear it in the similar styles she looked at so often in the ancient magazines. It was just one of many fantasies that were so common among the tribes people. A memory of what was lost so long ago, during the great wars.   
Reverently, Nissan replaced the precious magazines to their resting place and she closed the lid, and then slid the metal locker under the cot. She stood, stripped off her tanned hides, and grabbed a ladle from the barrel of water. As Stratus had, she cleaned the dust off her body, which had accumulated both from the initial cleaning in the muddy river, and the trek from the hunting grounds to their village.   
Unlike Stratus, she had a single tattoo on her upper arm. It was a simple circle with one line drawn from the left to right on it. It was the symbol of the ancient god from whose name she had taken when she was still a babe. She was proving to the elders that she was worth more to them as a huntress than one of the women to toil in the fields or care for the children. In time, she would add more tattoos to her flesh, eventually becoming a full-fledged warrior for the tribe.   
But the elders were stubborn, and she had to work twice as hard as any of the males to prove herself.   
It had always been the tribal way. She accepted that, but it didn't mean that she couldn't break with tribal tradition.   
As she bathed for the second time that day, Stratus lay back on the cot and threw his arm over his eyes, not bothering to cover himself because of the heat of the tent. The rhythm of his breathing changed, deep and even, indicating that the man was sound asleep. It always amazed Nissan how he could fall so quickly asleep, and yet wake up at the slightest sound or disturbance that wasn't natural.  
There were still several long hours before sunset, but the hunt had taken more out of the young woman than she cared to admit. Dropping the ladle back into the bucket, she stood and closed her eyes, waiting for the natural heat of the tent to dry off her body. The cot, and her mate looked very inviting. Nissan stifled a yawn and crawled onto the narrow bed and curled up next to Stratus, tired but content with the way the day had gone.   
  
  
She had no idea how much time had passed when the first gunshot broke her revere and brought her back to semi-wakefulness. Screams and gunfire saturated the air, and before she knew it, Stratus was already off the cot and had taken hold of his spear. He stood at the tent flap and looked out.   
Nissan realized that is was night, as she could barely see her mate as he stood vigil. "What is it? Another tribe?"  
"I doubt it, there are only a couple of guns among all the nearby tribes, and sounds like there is a shitload of them out there."  
Groping in the dark, Nissan found her loincloth and halter-top and donned them. When she was dressed, she took the spear from Stratus and took his place at the tent flap, daring to look outside.   
It was pure chaos. She could see her fellow tribal members rushing towards the front gate, while several of the older men and women herded the children to the back of the village, as far away as possible from the fighting. Looking at the gate, she could see the warriors hurling spears, while Yamaha, the chief of the tribe, stood with the villages only weapon, a hunting rifle that had been handed down from father to son since the time of the great war. Calmly he took aim with his weapon and squeezed off shot after shot.   
Nissan blinked when the back of Yamaha's head blossomed like a flower, she was unable to comprehend what had just happened. Like a puppet with its strings cut, Yamaha pitched forward onto his knees, then fell face first into the dirt, the rifle still gripped in his fist.   
Stratus stood next to her, another spear in his hand. They watched as one by one the guards dropped, taken out by the invader's superior weapons. He glanced at her and clasped her shoulder. "They need me," he said, pulling open the tent flap fully.   
"They need us," she corrected him, pushing past him and out into the much cooler night air. The combination of adrenalin and the heat of the tent caused her flesh to erupt in goose bumps, but she ignored the slight discomfort and started to jog towards the gateway. Already a number of invaders had broken in and were randomly shooting anyone they saw. From the light of the numerous fires, she could see that the invaders were indeed raiders, not a rival tribe. The distinctive leather garment gave them away. But why attack this particular village? They were quite far off the beaten track. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind in order to concentrate on helping the defenders.  
She and Stratus sprinted towards the nearest of the attackers, both of them raising their spears at the same time, getting ready to let fly. Their target, either seeing or somehow sensing their approach, turned and lobbed a small round object in their direction. Stratus laughed out loud when the small ball landed several feet in front of them.   
The laughter died in his throat as the object turned out to be a weapon that neither had ever seen before. It detonated with a loud thunderclap, and searing light tore through their optic nerves, blinding them instantly. The light was quickly swallowed by darkness. 


End file.
